


That's What Friends Are For

by eirenical (chibi1723)



Series: Tumblr Prompt Meme [6]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Gen, Haunting, If You Squint - Freeform, Unrequited Crush, hints of past Courfeyrac/Cosette Fauchelevent/Marius Pontmercy, mentions of Bahorel/Jean "Jehan" Prouvaire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 18:54:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13770402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibi1723/pseuds/eirenical
Summary: The rent on this spacious two-bedroom was almost obscenely low for this part of town.  So, really… Feuilly should have known.  He should have known there was a catch, but he’d been unable to resist, especially with the potential of finding a roommate and halving the cost of a rent that was already ridiculously low for the area.  Besides, how bad could it be?  Leaky faucets, noisy neighbors, unpleasant smells, broken appliances, questionable rust-colored stains, drug dealers across the hall—Feuilly had been prepared for any and all of the above, but… a ghost?  Who even knew that that was a thing in this day and age?





	That's What Friends Are For

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ERNest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ERNest/gifts).



> **_February 22, 2018:_** This was a prompt from a writing meme that got just a _bit_ out of control, and really 1000 words is my outside limit for what I'm willing to post directly on tumblr and this is half again as much, at least. SO. Onto AO3 we go. ^_^ Enjoy?
> 
> [tumblr post](http://eirenical.tumblr.com/post/171182421312/feuillycourfeyrac-what-part-of-knocking-do-you).

“I see the messenger job is paying off…”

Feuilly grabbed at the towel around his hips before it could slide any further and quickly grabbed the pile of clothes on the dresser to clutch to his still-wet chest with his free hand. “Fuck’s _sake_ , Courfeyrac, what part of ‘knocking’ do you not understand?”

Courfeyrac merely lifted his fist to lay it against the wood of the door… and then pushed it through the wood of the door. The one eyebrow he lifted as he did so spoke volumes more than any words could have.

Feuilly’s face heated under that steady regard, a flush that traveled quickly down his neck and shoulders to his chest and up into his ears. He buried his face into the pile of clothes he was still clutching to his chest. “Right. Sorry. Poor choice of words. I forgot.”

Courfeyrac laughed. “That’s all right. You’ve never had a noncorporeal roommate before. It takes some getting used to. In fact, most people never manage it.” Courfeyrac crossed the room, politely busying himself with looking at the photographs on the wall, presumably so that Feuilly could get dressed in a modicum of privacy. 

Feuilly wasted no time in taking advantage of that courtesy, shoving himself into his clothes without bothering to towel off. He got stuck twice—once with his arm halfway through a sleeve and once when he couldn’t get his foot through the leg of his jeans—and nearly toppled over onto the bed before he was through, but he still managed to dress in record time. Who knew when Courfeyrac would run out of patience and turn around?

A minute later, Courfeyrac turned back to face Feuilly, a soft smile on his face. “On the upside, the rent is cheap as hell, though, right?”

Feuilly made a noncommittal noise and bent down to rummage under the bed for the pair of socks he’d dropped. Courfeyrac wasn’t wrong. The rent on this spacious two-bedroom was almost obscenely low for this part of town. So, really… Feuilly should have known. He should have known there was a catch, but he’d been unable to resist, especially with the potential of finding a roommate and halving the cost of a rent that was already ridiculously low for the area. Besides, how bad could it be? Leaky faucets, noisy neighbors, unpleasant smells, broken appliances, questionable rust-colored stains, drug dealers across the hall—Feuilly had been prepared for any and all of the above, but… a ghost? Who even knew that that was a thing in this day and age?

Apparently, the silence had gone on just a bit too long for Courfeyrac’s taste. He broke it with a quiet, “Feuilly… I am sorry. I didn’t even think. It’s just… it’s been so long since anyone was even willing to stay longer than a week, much less a whole month and I keep thinking I’m going to turn around one day and find you _gone_ and I just—” 

Feuilly looked up when Courfeyrac’s voice abruptly cut off, his eyes widening when he noted that Courfeyrac was standing in the corner, wringing his hands together, eyes downcast, shoulders hunched. Feuilly hadn’t known Courfeyrac long, but he did know that, in himself, those would have been signs of extreme distress. He sighed. “It’s just… you’ve been lonely.”

Courfeyrac nodded his head frantically up and down but didn’t speak another word.

Feuilly lifted a hand to attempt to rub away the ache quickly forming at his temples; he could all but feel his dreams of finding a roommate to share the rent drifting away. It wasn’t that he couldn’t afford it on his own. He could. He never would have signed the lease if he couldn’t. But it would have been nice to be able to save more than the bare minimum for once, to do more than live paycheck to paycheck. As he sat there, slowly rubbing at his temples, a cold chill settled in at the base of his neck. When he opened his eyes, Feuilly was unsurprised to find Courfeyrac beside him, one hand cupping the back of his neck. 

As their eyes met, Courfeyrac offered Feuilly a small smile. “Another upside is you’ll never need an ice pack ever again?” When Feuilly’s only response was to close his eyes again, the cold sensation vanished as quickly as it had arrived. Feuilly opened his eyes to Courfeyrac furiously pacing the length of his bedroom. Abruptly Courfeyrac stopped and spun to face Feuilly, one finger pointing directly at him. “I have it!”

Feuilly went back to rubbing at his temples. “You have what, Courfeyrac?”

Courfeyrac resumed his pacing, gesticulating with his hands as he spoke. “I know you’re worried about money. I know you’d like to have a corporeal roommate—no offense taken, by the way, I know noncorporeals don’t pay rent, it’s one of our major selling points—and let’s face it, who wants to live in a haunted apartment, right?” When Feuilly nodded, still unsure where this was going but willing to play along, Courfeyrac’s entire face lit up with a smile. He really must have been something when he was alive… “But you _do_ know someone who’d love to live in a haunted apartment! You brought him ‘round last week. The tall, lanky fellow. The one who was wearing clothes from at least four different decades—and possibly two different centuries; seriously where _did_ he get that hat?—in an outfit that defied all logic and good taste.”

In spite of himself, Feuilly couldn’t help but look up at that description. His lips twitched. “Jehan. You mean Jehan.”

Courfeyrac snapped his fingers, his smile widening still further. “Yes! That’s the one. Why don’t you invite him to move in? I’m pretty certain he could already see me, too. He kept flirting in my direction when he thought no one was looking.” The sparkle in Courfeyrac’s eyes and the rakish incline of his head spoke the final words clearly enough that he didn’t even need to speak them out loud: And why wouldn’t he? Am I not gorgeous? Don’t you wish you’d thought to do it first?

And that was part of the whole problem, really. Feuilly _had_ thought about it. But what was the point? Courfeyrac didn’t like to use the word, but… he was a ghost. He was _dead_. By definition, a relationship with him was going straight towards a dead-end at 100 miles an hour. But that was _not_ a discussion Feuilly ever intended to have with Courfeyrac.

“That’s actually not a terribly idea. There’s only one problem.” Feuilly shrugged. “Jehan is living with Bahorel and not in any rush to move out.”

Courfeyrac frowned, one finger tapping against his lips. “Brawny fellow? Impressive beard, fabulously-loud-yet-somehow-stylish coat?” When Feuilly nodded, Courfeyrac clapped his hands together with glee. “Well that’s not a problem, at all! Invite them both! There’s more than enough room for three people here, in addition to myself, of course, especially as I take up very little space of my own.”

Feuilly muttered under his breath, “Yes. Because you take up all of mine.”

Courfeyrac continued, undeterred, as though Feuilly hadn’t spoken. “In fact, back when I was still a corporeal, there were three of us here, and by the end—when Cosette’s dear Papa moved in with us—there were four. It was cozy, sure, but who doesn’t like things a little cozy? You’ll all do fine. And just think of how much money you’ll save with three of you splitting the rent! The landlord will be so over-the-moon to not have to look for new tenants, he’ll probably freeze your rent on the spot just to sweeten the deal.”

Feuilly slowly nodded. “I can’t deny that the idea has merit…” When Courfeyrac started dancing in place in the middle of the room, Feuilly held up a hand. “All I can say is that I’ll think about it, and I’ll talk to them. Fair enough?”

“More than fair.” Courfeyrac bounced over to join Feuilly on the bed by floating just above it. “I’d offer to shake on it, but…” He shrugged.

Courfeyrac’s cheer was infectious, and Feuilly couldn’t help but smile. “As well as you do with knocking, I’d rather not test your ability to handle corporeal objects with my hand. You might permanently numb it or something. But the intent is appreciated.”

They parted ways—Feuilly to go to work and Courfeyrac to do whatever it was that noncorporeals did when their corporeal roommates weren’t around—and Feuilly spent much of his shift that night thinking. By the time he came home, he hadn’t untangled much… but he did have a plan. Feuilly had no idea who Courfeyrac had been before he died—had no idea if ‘Courfeyrac’ was even his real name—but he had a feeling that he’d just been given a major clue to help him figure it out.

Courfeyrac had lived with two other people, one of whom was named “Cosette.” And in the end, Cosette’s father had lived there, too. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. Because in spite of Courfeyrac’s extreme lack of boundaries, Feuilly had to admit that in the month since he’d moved in, he’d grown inordinately fond of the ghost he was sharing this apartment with… and far too aware of exactly how lonely Courfeyrac really was. So, for Courfeyrac’s sake, tomorrow he’d do as he promised and approach Jehan and Bahorel about moving in. And if they agreed, he’d deal with sharing a wall with them during their more… esoteric pursuits… with as little complaint as he could manage. And after that… after that, he was going to see what he could do about finding Cosette. For if she had cared for Courfeyrac as much as he’d clearly cared for her, and she was still alive? It might just be the biggest mitzvah Feuilly could perform to bring them back together.

After all… what were corporeal friends for?

**Author's Note:**

> Spell checked but completely unbeta'ed. This was a tumblr writing meme prompt that spun a bit out of control. Oops? ^_^ Speaking of, feel free to come find me on tumblr @ [eirenical](http://eirenical.tumblr.com)! I promise I don't bite. ^_^


End file.
